


Keeper of the Mountain

by Aloneindarknes7



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Body Modification, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Isolation, M/M, Magic, Mentions of Death, Mild Gore, Non-Sexual Slavery, Paranoia, Past Abuse, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Discovery, Social Anxiety, Transformation, Trust Issues, Violence, except Smaug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2773754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloneindarknes7/pseuds/Aloneindarknes7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo didn’t know why Smaug had never just eaten him. He didn’t understand why Smaug had spent years training Bilbo to become strong and powerful in magic. But it would become his undoing. One-Shot written for Hobbit Reverse Big Bang. Bagginshield only if you want it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeper of the Mountain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spittingfeathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spittingfeathers/gifts).



> I was lucky enough to snag this terrific plot from fatynthemachine on Tumblr or spittingfeathers here on AO3. The art that goes with this is beautiful and inspired much of this story! Please check it out [here](http://fatynthemachine.tumblr.com/post/105200582374/my-art-for-the-hrbb14-for-this-prompt-it-has). I'd like to thank fatynthemachine for being such a wonderful artist and being so fun to work with!

Belladonna had already agreed on one last, big adventure with Gandalf. It was to be her last ‘hurrah’ before she was ready to admit to herself that it was time to give in and settle down with Bungo Baggins. He had won her heart by faithfully waiting for her between every adventure, big and small. Even when she was meeting with elves, riding a pony, and seeing mountains, Belladonna thought of Bungo. 

“This is the last thing I’ll do for you, Gandalf, before I have to give in to respectability.” Belladonna smiled despite her bravado being an act. She didn’t know how she felt about sneaking into a deserted dwarf kingdom, even if it was for the greater good as Gandalf claimed.

“Do this for me, Belladonna, and you will have the grandest firework display at your wedding.” Gandalf promised. “Not to mention bragging rights for being the farthest traveling hobbit in hundreds of years now.” 

It was more of her Tookish nature than her common sense that had her slipping through the dilapidated front gate of Erebor. She followed Gandalf’s instructions once she got through the debris. She tried to ignore the summersaults that her stomach was doing when her eyes landed on rotting corpses. Her feet moved much quicker, wanting to get her task over with. She only needed to find one glittering gem. How hard could that be?

Belladonna knew she had found the right room when her eyes were filled with the sight of piles upon piles of glittering gold. Gandalf had told her there would be a lot of it, she just hadn’t known how much there was going to be. How did that blasted wizard expect her to find one gemstone amongst such a hoard?

Taking a deep breath, Belladonna began to climb up the first pile of gold. She hadn’t even made it to the top before the gold began to shift under her feet. Belladonna peered curiously around before she shrieked at the sight of a giant, piercing eye staring right at her. 

The gold continued to stream down as the eye shifted and rose, making Belladonna fall onto her backside and stare up in wonder. “And what are you, tiny she creature?” The giant eye belonged to a giant dragon and Belladonna, somehow between all the terror and dread she felt, cursed Gandalf for not giving her the full history behind her task. The claw marks in stone, burnt smell in the air, and all the numerous corpses suddenly made terrifying sense.

“Well?” The dragon’s voice rumbled.

“I,” she swallowed the squeak and began again in a louder voice, “I’m a hobbit. From the Shire. Please forgive me; I didn’t know you were here.” 

“You didn’t know?” The dragon seemed offended. “You insolent creature.” Its voice came out as a growl and Belladonna felt as though she was staring death in the eyes.

“Please, do not eat me, mighty dragon!” She begged, trembling all over.

“You’re not worth eating. You wouldn’t even be close to a mouthful.” The dragon sneered as it lowered its head to her level, sharp teeth on display. “Instead, I will take your most precious treasure for my own.”

An inkling of confusion mixed into Belladonna’s overwhelming fear. “But I have no treasure, especially not anything that could match with your mighty hoard.”

“Yes,” the dragon agreed. “You have no treasure yet. But you will, soon, I can already smell him growing in your stomach. When your child is born, I will come to claim him.” Belladonna’s eyes widened for many a reason but before she could even protest against being pregnant, the dragon’s head roared up. “Now leave me and my kingdom!”

Belladonna fled for her life, returning to Gandalf shaking and mute. He apologized profusely to her but she refused to speak of what had happened. Their journey back to the Shire was quick and quiet. Belladonna didn’t speak until she had returned and found Bungo. Only then did she break into tears, clutching one hand in his vest and the other hand over her stomach. 

Their wedding became a rushed affair. The Tooks weren’t surprised to be fitting Belladonna’s wedding dress over her pregnant stomach since she had never been the type to follow the “respectable order of things” in the Shire. Only a month after their wedding, Belladonna held her son in her arms. 

Then the dragon came.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He had only known broken, empty halls. Echoing stone walls had been the only voices to speak comfort to him. Smaug was never one to comfort him. In the last sixty years, Smaug had not even called for him which he does not mind.

Even though he does not know how he came to be or why he had changed so much over the years, Bilbo had only known to keep Smaug contempt and himself busy. Luckily there was much to do inside the mountain.

It had been his home for a long time. He healed the ravaged halls and had lain to rest the fallen bodies left behind. Not all the bodies were in good shape but Bilbo had done his best, placing them to rest in stone with the other found bodies. He had found a room full of bodies that almost seemed preserved and that was the first time Bilbo compared himself to another living being.

Smaug had given many threats over the years, most of them being vague, menacing messages of making Bilbo end up like “the rotting dwarves left behind.” That was why Bilbo knew the bodies were dwarves, that the mountain and gold hoard had once belonged to dwarves, and that Bilbo himself was not a dwarf.

He didn’t know what he was though.

When he had been younger and much smaller, he had hairy toes, pale skin, and blue eyes that had stared back at him in the mirror he had found. When Bilbo looked into the mirror sixty years later, he was bigger but not much older. Smaug had told him that he would no longer age, that he liked Bilbo as he was then. Bilbo wondered if Smaug would like the new, clawed toes and the golden scales beginning to cover his once soft skin.

Bilbo hoped that Smaug was dead. Sixty years seemed too long even for Smaug to go without food or water. That had been Bilbo’s job. That was his purpose for being with Smaug; to fetch him food and supply him with drink. But he still felt Smaug’s presence, heavy in the air near the hoard of gold. Bilbo doesn’t go near that part of the mountain much, not unless he’s called there. 

He wondered if the poison was finally beginning to work. 

When he was smaller, he hadn’t begun to poison Smaug’s food yet. He had been too frightened to even think of such a thing. It wasn’t until he had found a book in the vast, abandoned library about plants and learned that there was such a type of plant before he began to plan. It took a few years to even find a plant that was odorless and tasteless near the hunting grounds before Bilbo began to poison Smaug. As he grew older and stronger, his strength given to him by Smaug in order to serve Smaug, then Bilbo began to poison his water as well.

For over a hundred years Bilbo supplied the dragon with poison, all the while learning to use his newly given strength. He seemed weightless as he walked, almost flying over crumbled pathways in the mountain. The claws in his feet were razor sharp, just as the ones on his hands were when he didn’t retract them. His hearing allowed him to distinguish the different noises of the bugs crawling across the floor. With his eyes he could see the tiniest pebble down a dark mineshaft. 

While Smaug might not have called on Bilbo for food or drink recently, Bilbo still left the mountain regularly to find supplies for himself. There was also some instinctual draw to the outdoors. Around the mountain the land was desolated, the sky cloudy, and overall a sad sight.

But when Bilbo focused on the energy thrumming beneath his skin, he was able to travel far enough to find green fields, bright sun, and the gentleness of grazing animals. Of course, Bilbo needed to keep up his strength and energy. Drawing on his powers to transform himself into his stronger form took a lot out of him and he usually had to disturb the animals by hunting them down and feasting on them. It was a cruel cycle of life but Bilbo did what was necessary to survive. 

When he soared in the sky, he felt freed in a way that he could never enjoy in his mountain home, not with Smaug still breathing.

Luckily, while Smaug slept, Bilbo read, gathering more and more information. Smaug was older, bigger, and stronger than Bilbo. But Bilbo’s small size, submissive demeanor, and cunning intelligence would be Smaug’s downfall. After all, Bilbo knew that every dragon had one weak spot. That was unfortunate for Smaug but lucky for Bilbo since he was not truly a dragon.

Bilbo didn’t know why Smaug had never just eaten him. He didn’t understand why Smaug had spent years training Bilbo to become strong and powerful in magic. But it would become his undoing. Bilbo knew that in some twisted way, Smaug was rather attached to Bilbo. He felt some small form of affection for Bilbo whether it was from his own self-imposed solitude from other dragons or not, he saw Bilbo as a family member in a manner.

But despite all of Smaug’s efforts, Bilbo didn’t see himself that way. He didn’t know what he was, but he knew that he certainly wasn’t a dragon. Despite all the lessons and magic Smaug transferred to Bilbo, it was not enough to make Bilbo anew. He wasn’t a dragon in a different form. He was Bilbo who just so happened to be able to transform into a dragon. 

But Bilbo didn’t hold any affection for Smaug. He had never held enjoyment in Smaug’s threats, insults, and taunts, no matter how half-hearted they might have been. He had never felt right being with Smaug. It had even taken him awhile to feel comfortable in the large mountain due to being so small and feeling out of place everywhere. 

Bilbo felt more affection for the mountain than he did Smaug. The mountain was somewhere he was able to call home. Smaug he could call nothing other than his numerous titles. 

Despite not knowing where he came from, Bilbo knew to trust his instincts. And his instincts told him that his home would be better off without Smaug.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- 

“Bilbo.” 

The walls echoed with the call, disturbing the silence in the air. Bilbo sat, shocked to stillness, before he closed his book and went towards the gold hoard. 

Smaug had revealed himself, rising above the gold he used as a blanket. His bright eyes were staring down at Bilbo as though he didn’t recognize him. Perhaps he didn’t. 

“They approach my mountain.” Smaug’s voice rumbled deep in his chest. Bilbo kept his eyes off of Smaug’s chest, off of the obvious weak spot above the dragon’s heart where his golden scales didn’t protect.

“Yes, they have been getting closer for the past two days.” Bilbo agreed. 

“They are dwarves, no doubt foolishly believing they can steal some of their treasure back.” Smaug growled. Bilbo had already figured out that they were dwarves; he had left the mountain briefly to look at the approaching group. There were only thirteen of them and he hadn’t been concerned. 

“When they come into my domain, seal whatever hole they crawl through. Block their escape route. It has been too long since I feasted on dwarves.” Smaug’s eyes lost focus for a moment. It was almost as though he was drowsy and fighting to keep his eyes opened. The poison was weakening him after all.

“They are near.” Smaug shook his head to refocus himself. “They will no doubt be in my mountain by the time the sun has set. Use the power I have given you. You will only be a burden to me in that form.” Smaug hissed.

Bilbo bowed his head and focused on his energy. It always hurt and he would have to eat most of his stash of dried meats later today to regain his energy.  
In a matter of agonizing moments, he was on four, clawed feet. His entire body shimmered in golden, hard scales without any spots revealed. He had pointed teeth and his eyes were narrower. The wings were the toughest part. His shoulder blades had to reshape themselves and burst through his back to sprout out. 

Smaug stared at him with disinterest. “Even as a dragon you are no more intimidating than a hatchling.” 

“I cannot force myself to grow.” Bilbo understood that even with his powers he could only work with the mass his body contained. 

“That shall have to work then. Find a spot where you might hide yourself and then.” Smaug cut himself off and his ears twitched. Bilbo heard it as well. Hands were touching the rocks on the outskirt of the mountain. The approaching dwarves were much closer. 

Smaug’s eyes glassed over again and Bilbo took the opportunity to spring. He was faster in this form and deadlier, even if Smaug only saw him as a hatchling. Smaug was sluggish and had never expected such disobedience from Bilbo. With Smaug’s guard down and his reflexes weakened by years of poison, Bilbo had pierced his clawed hands into the weak spot in Smaug’s chest

He sunk his claws deeper into Smaug’s chest until his own chest was pressed to the large dragon. He slashed and tore, smearing blood from his actions down onto both of their chests. Smaug roared and thrashed with pain and anger. “You insolent creature! How dare you attack me! I gave you this strength and this life. I will take it away!” 

Smaug thundered with his rage and his chest heated with fire. The flames encased Bilbo but didn’t hurt him. Fire cannot hurt a dragon, not even a mix of dragon like Bilbo. He only succeeded in clawing apart Smaug’s insides, digging further inside the massive dragon, trying to dig deep enough and damage everything he could reach. 

Smaug screamed and cursed in agony, rattling the mountain with his anger. Bilbo didn’t stop until he had dug through the muscle and reached Smaug’s soft organs. He pushed his way further into the hole in Smaug’s chest until most of his body was inside and he could add his teeth to the fight. He didn’t know if it was Smaug’s heart he had reached or not, but he slashed wildly at whatever he felt. Whatever damage he could do to the dragon would be worth it. 

But then Smaug’s own clawed hand came up and ripped Bilbo out of his chest. He had grabbed him by his thrashing feet and thrown him across the room to smack into a wall. Bilbo didn’t hesitate to scramble out of the room, using all of his speed to escape far into the mountain. Hiding in a small, dense hole where he hoped that Smaug would never find him as he tended to his own wounds. His scales helped to protect him, but Smaug’s strength was still great and he had put everything into throwing Bilbo. It felt like a few ribs were broken from the collision with the wall. 

He waited in the hole until Smaug’s anger quieted. Until his breathing stuttered. Only once the mountain stilled once and for all did Bilbo emerge from the hole. He headed towards the small stream of water far in the mountain and began to wash the blood off of him.

Looking at the reflection in the water as the blood drifted down and away, his dragon eyes glowed with anger. He wanted to transform back into his other form but his broken ribs wouldn’t let him. He’d be stuck as a small dragon until he healed in a week or two; luckily a lot faster due to magic Smaug had given him. 

Smaug who was dead now.

Smaug was dead. The mountain belonged to Bilbo. 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The dwarves finally entered the mountain. It took them another two days to gain the nerve after Smaug had shaken the mountain, but enter they did. Bilbo watched them from his hiding spots, moving with them inside the mountain. He was careful to hide well, not wanting to have to fight and risk injuring himself more.

The group had been startled to find Smaug’s corpse, to find the dragon’s blood staining the golden hoard, and the large gaping hole in Smaug’s chest.

Bilbo listened as they whispered about a monster even fiercer than Smaug. He watched them as they claimed a room in the mountain, close to the gold hoard, as their area. They kept up a rotation of guards; always on the lookout for the creature they had heard kill Smaug the Terrible. 

They traveled in groups as they searched for supplies. The first thing they had done was find the ravens and send a letter with them. Bilbo had never bothered the birds and they had never bothered him. If the dwarves wanted to use the ravens, that was fine.

The groups always met back up in their room each night with news on where they had traveled or what they found. They talked about the new graves that Bilbo had created. They spoke of the cleaned paths. One couldn’t stop talking about Bilbo’s library, praising the condition of the books. 

Bilbo watched them, observing the way they all took care of each other. He had read so many books with stories that told of families and how families interacted, but Bilbo had never understood why. Smaug and Bilbo might have been considered a family and Bilbo had killed Smaug after years of the larger dragon hurting and threatening him.

But the dwarves huddled together around a small fire. They shared the small supply of food they had. They checked each other over for injuries. They talked kindly to one another and told stories that made others laugh. Even Bilbo had chuckled over a story or two as he eavesdropped. That was when Bilbo decided that he liked these dwarves. 

After a week of watching the dwarves and eluding them as they searched for him without knowing what they searched for, Bilbo decided that these dwarves were allowed to stay in his mountain. That night he left a small trail with gold coins from their room to the water source in the mountain that remained clean. It had been blocked when Bilbo was young but when he had gotten bigger he had been able to move aside the large boulders that blocked the small stream from running. It had made getting water for himself and Smaug easier.

The dwarves had figured the trail for a trap and had followed as a full group. When they found the water they had cheered and stripped before making their way into the water, splashing and rejoicing. Bilbo left them then, taking the opportunity to leave some food and blankets in their room for when they returned. He wanted to ensure that these dwarves were cared for and would be alright. 

That night Bilbo watched as the dwarves reacted in many different ways to Bilbo’s gifts. Some of the ones with a little less of a beard on their faces seemed to understand that Bilbo meant this as a peace offering. The ones with longer beards seemed skeptical. 

The next day the dwarves brought axes with them into the gold hoard and began to chop Smaug’s corpse up into pieces, no longer waiting for a supposed attack from Bilbo. It was a very slow process since Smaug’s armor needed to be ripped away first, starting from the one weak spot Bilbo had expanded. 

When they did manage to get a few chunks off, the dwarves would transport them outside of the mountain and burn them in large fires. They did this for three days with Bilbo always leaving food for them in their selected room without any incident. 

His ribs were finally starting to feel better and he figured he could transform back into his regular form in another two days. It was still early in the afternoon when Bilbo delivered food to the dwarves’ room, normally when the dwarves would be hard at work swinging their axes. 

He had felt comfortable to leave the mountain and hunt for fresh meat. His supply was diminishing quicker than ever since he now had to feed dwarves and himself. He knew his mountain would be cared for while he hunted. The dwarves meant him and his home no harm.

But then one snuck up on him. He hadn’t heard the dwarf approach until it was too late for him to do much more than scramble up onto the ceiling. Bilbo kept still, watching as the dwarf with red hair styled into a similar shape to a star walked into the room. His boots were in his hands and it made Bilbo angry that the dwarf had tried to sneak up on him and almost succeeded. 

The dwarf looked at the food and then looked around the room. He began to put his boots back on and leave when he stopped. He looked up, meeting Bilbo’s eyes directly. 

“Ah,” the dwarf let out a little squeak of surprise and Bilbo dropped from the ceiling to fly out of the room as fast as he could against his protesting ribs. 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Bilbo wasn’t sure what happened with the dwarves after that. He stayed hidden in one of the deeper caverns for a while, until his ribs were fully healed and he could finally transform into his other form. He felt better no longer being a dragon and decided he would only be one again if he felt threatened from the dwarves. He hoped he wouldn’t have to kill them as well. He wanted to let them stay in his mountain, especially if they were helping to clean up Smaug’s body. It would be less of a mess for him to deal with then.

When he found the dwarves, still working in the gold hoard, he saw that only half of them were still taking axes to Smaug while the other half were looking through the gold piles. 

Bilbo took it as a positive sign that none of them were off trying to look for him. 

He watched them work for a few hours before the same dwarf with the pointed star hairstyle began to look up and around. Bilbo stepped back, further into the shadows he was hiding in, and was thankfully not spotted. 

For the next few days, he began to leave them supplies once more and secretly watch them, never being spotted. The dwarves would all retire to the same room, except for one dwarf that worked himself to exhaustion in the gold room every night while Bilbo watched.

Bilbo had begun to wait until the dwarf was finally succumbed by wariness before he approached him. The dwarf had thick, black hair sprinkled with lines of gray. His beard was oddly short for how old the dwarf seemed. His nose had an elegant curve to it that Bilbo had seen depicted in many statues and images in books. 

What really drew Bilbo down to this dwarf every chance he got was the smell coming off of the dwarf. It smelled of disease and ruin; of madness. 

Each night, when the dwarf laid down upon the gold piles it had desperately been searching through, Bilbo snuck up to him and did his best to heal him. It was a long process though and the dwarf always began to stir before Bilbo’s magic could fully run its course, leaving a strand of the madness left. That simple strand was enough to keep the sickness going and growing. Every day the madness would take hold of the dwarf’s mind and every night Bilbo would try to heal it away. 

It was an ongoing battle until one night the dwarf didn’t stir awake before Bilbo had finished his healing. It was much worse. The dwarf woke up instantly to Bilbo’s glowing hands hovering over his head. 

“What are you doing?” The dwarf snapped and Bilbo jerked away in terror. 

He turned tail and ran, sliding and stumbling over the golden hoard. The dwarf was chasing after him though. Calling for him to stop, to wait, even as the dwarf chased and got closer and closer to Bilbo. 

In a moment of panic, Bilbo stopped and transformed, startling the dwarf now to back away from Bilbo as he underwent his painful process to transform into the dragon form. When he finished transforming, the dwarf was looking at him with his blue eyes wide. Being faster in his dragon form, Bilbo ran off, leaving the dwarf far behind him.

Instead of hiding away for a while again, Bilbo returned to his preferred form and spied on the dwarves the very next day. The dwarves were once more working in the gold room, only Bilbo noticed that most of them stopped to look around the room every now and again. None of them spotted Bilbo, but they’re aware now that he is there and can probably sense his eyes watching them.

But they never tried to hunt for him. They still accepted and used the supplies he left behind for them. 

That night, the dwarf Bilbo had been healing waited until he was the last one in the room to stop and look about. 

“I know you are here.” The dwarf announced, his voice deep and loud as it echoed around the room. “I do not know what you were doing last night but it has caused me no harm that I have noticed. Show yourself so we may speak.” The dwarf waited, his eyes still searching the higher areas of the room. 

“If you mean me and my company no harm, then we mean you no harm. We know that you have been leaving us supplies and we are thankful. We also suspect that you are the one that killed Smaug and for that we are eternally grateful.” The dwarf bowed low even though he wasn’t even facing the right direction. “We are in your debt and if you would but speak your demands I would see them delivered.

“I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror of the line of Durin. I am the rightful King under this mountain and with Smaug’s demise I have reclaimed my kingdom.” The dwarf introduced himself. “If I would but have your name I would see to it that your deeds are sung of by my people for the rest of our days.” The dwarf paused again but Bilbo refused to answer and reveal his hiding spot. 

“Very well, if you do not wish to show yourself yet that is fine. We will not bother you.” Thorin proclaimed and continued his nightly routine of searching through the endless supply of gold and jewels. Before the dwarf fell into exhaustion though, he was fetched by another with a raven and a message that had all the dwarves returning to the gold hoard and searching endlessly for three days with little rest for any of them. 

Then, one of the younger dwarves with barely any beard on his cheeks, and a frame similar to Thorin, began to shout and draw the attention of all the dwarves to him. He held a large, sparkling gem in his hands. Bilbo almost wanted to call the gem white but it was more than white. It was colorless in a way but also shone with many colors. It almost seemed to be an essence of light. 

All the dwarves were overjoyed to see it. Thorin clapped the dwarf of the back proudly and took the gem, holding it above his own head. All the dwarves cheered triumphantly. 

At that moment, Bilbo heard the footsteps of armies approaching the mountain. One came from the east, another from the south, and a third from the west. Bilbo scented the air, smelling more dwarves, humans, elves, and then something most foul that Bilbo couldn’t quite identify but smelled like rotting elves. 

Even as the dwarves spent the next two days celebrating over the gem, Bilbo kept an ear out to the encroaching armies. The dwarves finally seemed to catch wind of what was happening outside of the mountain only when the elves and humans had already arrived. 

Bilbo wasn’t too sure what happened next. The dwarves went to the unsecured entrance of the mountain. He would have crawled into the deeper parts of the mountain, but he wanted to be ready for when his dwarves returned. He remained in a spot near the room they had originally claimed.

He sat and waited. He listened and he smelled. Blood was filling the air. He could hear the arrival of the dwarf army shortly after his group of dwarves disappeared fully armed from the gold hoard. Then the foul army followed. 

It was only when three of his dwarves returned that Bilbo had any idea of how the battle outside the mountain had fared. The three dwarves were carted by others into the room. Bilbo had heard the cart and the other dwarves long before they had made it anywhere near Bilbo’s hiding spot or the room. 

The three were carefully moved from the cart and Bilbo got a good look at them. The blonde dwarf had blood caked to his head and the younger dwarf that had originally found the gem was bleeding from his side. Both were unconscious. 

Thorin was lying between them and had numerous wounds that Bilbo could see still bleeding. He was conscious and hacked up blood when he coughed. One of the dwarves that had brought them in and laid them in the room stopped by his side. He had one arm in a sling and a new scar on his bald head.

“Are you sure, Thorin?” He asked, kneeling next to his king. 

“It is the only chance.” Thorin’s voice was nothing like it sounded before. It was no longer powerful and loud, but weak and broken by raspy breaths. 

The other dwarf nodded, leaned over to kiss Thorin’s forehead, and left the room with the other dwarves. Once they were far enough away, Bilbo heard Thorin speak.

“Little keeper of the mountain,” Thorin called out hoarsely. “I beg of you to make your presence known. I do not have much time and my nephews have even less. I beg of you to show yourself and use your powers to save Fili and Kili.” 

Bilbo knew that the dwarf was not in a state to cause any challenge to him so he revealed himself from his hiding spot and approached Thorin. He stared at the dwarf and then looked to the others. 

“You all linger in life currently, balancing on the edge of death. Would it not be easier to just let them die? My power is limited. I am not a great healer.” Bilbo informed as he knelt by Thorin’s side. “I was not able to heal you fully from your madness, though that is gone now by your own doing. I would only be able to heal them slightly; only just enough that they would have a better chance to live but even then they might still die. I might just prolong the pain they are in now. You I can heal without a problem though and be assured to live on.”

It wasn’t true. Bilbo knew his own limits but he was greatly underestimating himself to Thorin. He knew better than to tell of all of his abilities and strengths. If someone thought you were weaker than you actually were, then they would be surprised if they ever fought against you.

Thorin inhaled wetly, a spittle of blood creeping from the corner of his mouth as he began to speak. “I would rather you use your magic on them to ensure their lives and let me die.”

“You would offer up your own life so that they may live. Why would you do such a thing?” Bilbo frowned.

“They are my sister’s sons, my nephews. I never had sons of my own. They are the last of our line and the most precious of my family. I only realized that when it was too late.” Thorin slowly lifted a hand to place on Bilbo’s arm. “Please, I beg of you, do what you can to save them.” 

Bilbo stared at Thorin before looking at the other two dwarves. He exhaled slowly and made his own decision. “I will see that all of you live but it will drain me and I will go into a hibernated sleep, much like Smaug had been. I do not know how long I will need to sleep in order to perform such magic.” He admitted as his hands began to glow. 

He started with the blonde, working away at reconnecting the tissues in his body to grow over his wound and stop more blood from leaving him. It was slow and careful work. Bilbo hadn’t even been aware of Thorin’s eyes watching him work in wonder.

After some time, Bilbo pulled away and went to work on the other. He wasn’t as bad as the blonde but still it took a lot of Bilbo’s energy and magic to ensure that he was stable. Feeling drained already, Bilbo turned back to Thorin. Thorin hadn’t taken his eyes off of Bilbo the entire time.

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo brought his hands up over Thorin’s chest and concentrated. He thought of Thorin’s blood flowing steadily through his body. He thought of Thorin’s wounds closing and scarring over. He thought of Thorin’s pierced lungs draining of blood and filling instead with air.

When Bilbo was finished, he had a headache and a funny taste in his mouth. He crawled slightly away from the three dwarves.

“Leave me in this room and let no one enter to harm me. I trust you now with my life. Do not make me regret this.” Bilbo told Thorin as he went to one of the piles of blankets left behind by his dwarves. He cuddled under them and knew nothing more for some time.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Waking up felt like coming up from a lake after being under for too long. Bilbo felt like gasping for breath even though he had not been denied air. His body was sore from being in the same position for much too long. His senses felt overwhelmed. 

Bilbo heard things before he was able to see or move much. He heard so many voices, so many echoes, and so many different movements throughout the mountain. When he managed to stretch his body out and began blinking his eyes open, Bilbo saw the room had changed around him.

He was lying on a large, fluffy mattress with the blankets from before still piled around him. A small table was just before the bed and on the table there was a golden goblet filled with water and a plate piled high with food that smelled fresh. Bilbo instinctually reached for the food and began to drink and eat his fill, helping his body feel better instantly. 

While he continued to eat, Bilbo looked around the room. There were piles of golden items heaped around the bed but Bilbo wasn’t quite interested in that. His attention was drawn more to the piles of books, the new sets of clothes, and the odd sight of wilted flowers in various stages. 

Bilbo didn’t know how long he had been asleep, but he could tell by the flowers that were the oldest that it had been at least a few weeks. He ate his fill and began to slowly walk around the room. He tried on some of the clothes and was delighted in the soft texture against his skin. He was beginning to look through the different titles of the books when the door opened. 

It was the blonde dwarf that he had healed. He looked just as surprised to see Bilbo as Bilbo was to see him. Bilbo cursed himself for not recognizing that the dwarf was getting closer and blamed it on the fact that there were too many footsteps to focus on in the mountain. 

The dwarf quickly bowed and then rose with his hands held up. “I wish you no harm, Keeper of the Mountain, nor do any of us dwarves residing here.” The blonde smiled at him. “I owe you my thanks and my life, quite literally. I was not expecting you to be awake yet, none of us were or else my uncle would be here to greet you.”

“Thorin,” Bilbo straightened out of the defensive position he was in. 

“My uncle, that’s right.” The dwarf smiled wider. “He took a chance with believing in you to heal us and you more than came through. We’ve tried our best to ensure that you would be looked after and comfortable while you regained your strength. Now that you’re awake, we’ll make sure that you truly have anything you might need or desire.” The dwarf was staring at him with such emotion in his eyes. “You saved our lives, you saved our line. We’re back in our home and we have our royal heritage back all because of you. You’re our hero, Keeper of the Mountain. You can rest assured that we and our people will always be grateful to you.” 

It sounded nice. It all sounded very nice and almost too good to be true. Bilbo felt his stomach tightening. These people thought of him as some hero but he wasn’t a hero and he certainly didn’t want to be a hero. He just wanted to be left alone.

“My uncle wishes to host a feast in your honor. He wishes to know you and have you be known by all.” The dwarf was still talking, still praising him. 

Bilbo recalled the few times that Smaug had praised him. It had always been some trick. Smaug had told him how well he had done with controlling his powers while hunting some animal, and then Smaug would attack him for letting his guard down and criticize him for being so trusting. Bilbo knew this had to be the same thing. The group of dwarves that had originally started in his mountain knew he was a dragon and they wanted to lull him into thinking he’ll be fine. He already trusted them and they knew that too. They would strike and kill him to reclaim the mountain all for themselves. 

“Keeper of the Mountain?” Bilbo startled as he realized he had stopped listening and was lost in his own panicking thoughts. The dwarf had moved closer to him and was reaching out towards him. “Do you require more rest or?”

Before the dwarf could touch him, Bilbo took off running. He wasn’t as quick in this form, but he didn’t have the time to stop and transform. He wouldn’t have the energy either. He just had to get away and get to safety. So he ran and he listened to the dwarf and other dwarves that started to chase after him, calling after him. He ran faster. Even with the mountain now filled with dwarves, he knew these halls and he knew where to hide.

His bare feet slapped against the solid stone as he ran faster and farther, deeper into the mountain, past all other dwarves that stared at him as he sprinted away. His breath was coming in short, hot pants, almost as though his inner dragon was trying to breathe fire in this smaller form. But he kept running until he was encased in the darkness of the lower part of the mountain. He squeezed through different cracks in the mountains, shuffled along small tunnels, and finally found a hiding spot. He nestled around himself to wait until the danger passed. 

He had lost the dwarves chasing after him. He knew they would search for him but he was smaller and stealthier than the dwarves. He would evade them all. He wouldn’t let them hurt him. They could have the upper parts of the mountain if they would only let him be. He didn’t mind sharing his home. He just wanted to be allowed to live.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

For months, Bilbo kept to the smaller tunnels and shadows. He used the secrets of the mountain that only he knew. If any dwarf had known the paths he took, that dwarf was long gone by now. The secrets were only his to know and to use. It kept him safe.

The dwarves were looking for him. It devastated Bilbo to learn that all the dwarves were looking for him by Thorin’s orders. He had to hide for so many months. But he didn’t have to hunt. Food was left around the mountain for him. 

He knew it was a trap but he always waited until the dwarves that watched the food from around the corner became distracted. Sometimes he would toss a pebble in the opposite direction, grab the food, and run before the dwarves came back from investigating the noise. The dwarves that were making their home in the mountain weren’t very smart but Bilbo wanted the hunt to be over with.

That was why he snuck into Thorin’s room. Bilbo could hear the dwarves talking, working, and all their sounds of living. He knew that Thorin was declared as King Under the Mountain. That was fine by Bilbo. That meant Thorin was the one he needed to talk with. 

Bilbo had waited until night. He had stayed hiding underneath Thorin’s bed until Thorin had slept and was snoring. He stood by the bedside and had watched the sleeping dwarf. He looked so different from the last time Bilbo had seen him. He was no longer pale and dying. There was something pleasing about watching Thorin sleep and Bilbo hadn’t wanted to wake him. He also felt like crawling on top of Thorin and nesting on him like Smaug had once nested on his hoard of gold.

But they needed to talk. “Thorin,” Bilbo reached out a hand and smacked the dwarf in the chest. Thorin’s snores became a choking sound and a mumble before Thorin blinked and looked around the room. He locked eyes with Bilbo and then sat up in his bed. The sheets that had been tucked up to his neck draped around his waist to reveal a bare chest. Bilbo could see the scars that had once threatened Thorin with death.

“Thorin,” Bilbo repeated.

“Keeper of the Mountain, you have returned.” Thorin remarked, his voice deep from his sleep.

Bilbo shook his head. “Stop searching for me. I don’t want to be found.” 

“I don’t understand. You can have a place of honor amongst my people.” Thorin began. “I would seat you on my council. You have lived in this mountain and how easily you have evaded my guards you certainly know the mountain better than we currently do. You could help us and we could provide you with anything you want.”

“I want to be left alone.” Bilbo demanded.

“But you saved my life. You saved the lives of my nephews, my heirs. The Line of Durin always repays our debts.” Thorin tried to reach out to Bilbo and he quickly stepped away. Thorin’s hands fell to his lap. “I am King of this mountain and I will grant you anything you desire. You got rid of the dragon that once devastated my people and took this mountain for his own. We all owe you.”

“This mountain is still owned by a dragon.” Bilbo claimed boldly, puffing up his chest. “This mountain is mine. It has been since I delivered the killing blow to Smaug.”

Thorin stared at Bilbo before narrowing his eyes. “If you try to drive my people out of our home--”

“I do not wish for that. Nor do I want your gold. I am not like Smaug. He was a full dragon. I am not and never will be.” Bilbo quickly assured, shaking his head. “No, I only wish to be left alone. You and your people may live in my mountain. I like having dwarves here. I liked watching you and the other dwarves, the first group.” Bilbo commented. “I would like to watch again but your people now look for me.”

“I,” Thorin licked his lips before he started again. “I will have them stop looking for you. I can tell them that you mean us no harm and that they are to leave you be if they do happen upon you.”

Bilbo thought over the words before nodding. “Yes, I would like that.” Bilbo offered a rare smile. “I have liked dwarves since I first read about your people. Having dwarves in my mountain, it feels good.” Bilbo explained. “If you do not harm me, then the mountain can be home to you and your people.”

“You can’t simply be satisfied with watching my people go about our lives.” Thorin protested. “You must desire more. Tell me what more you want and I shall see that it is done.”

Again, Bilbo thought over what Thorin offered before he spoke. “There are some tunnels that have been deliberately blocked off, deep within the mountains. There were signs around them and rumble stacked in front of them that I had to move to enter into them.”

“Those tunnels are unsafe for my people. Some had noxious gases in them and others were too unstable to dig any farther.” Thorin agreed.

“Then those are to be my tunnels. Do not let others near them. I will rest there and if dwarves come to disturb me I will attack.” Bilbo warned even though he hoped he never would have to do so.

Thorin nodded. “They are yours. But may I visit there if I wish to see you again?”

Bilbo frowned. “Why would you do that?”

Thorin mimicked the frown. “May I?” He insisted instead of explaining. “I could bring you food or blankets or anything else you might need.”

“You may visit me,” Bilbo finally relented. “But do not bring such items. If your hands are full then you might hurt yourself. I have seen your people and you are slow and clumsy in ways I am not. I don’t want my magic to have gone to waste because you hurt yourself searching for me.” 

“Then I will leave those items somewhere else so you may grab them. I will not allow you to go hungry.” Thorin declared.

Bilbo nodded his head. “I won’t argue with that. I enjoy the food I’ve been able to get from your people so far. It’s easier than hunting and I never liked killing the animals.” 

Thorin seemed to relax at that and even offered a small smile at Bilbo. “Then we will provide you with daily offerings, Keeper of the Mountain.”

Bilbo nodded again. “Then it is agreed. I shall take my leave now.” Bilbo began to leave Thorin’s sleeping chamber before he stopped. “I do not mind the title you and your people have given me. But the only thing I know of myself, of who I was before Smaug, is that my name is Bilbo. I would like you to call me Bilbo, Thorin.”

“Then I will, Bilbo.” Thorin grinned and Bilbo felt an odd sensation curling in his gut at such a look from Thorin. He quickly left after that, sneaking past the guards and towards the tunnels that would from then on be his sanctuary. 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The mountain was all he had ever known. It used to have just been him and Smaug. He used to live on constant alert in case Smaug needed him or else he would be in danger of the dragon’s wrath. But Smaug was dead and the mountain was slowly filling with dwarves. 

There were no longer years of silence before Smaug would call on him. Bilbo could hear dwarves every day and he often ventured away from his tunnels to hide in the shadows and watched them. He often found himself watching Thorin in the large throne room. The room was so big that no one ever noticed Bilbo tucked away in a shadowy corner.

About one hundred feet from his tunnels, Thorin had a small table set up. A silky cover protected the crafted wood. On top of the silk would be baskets and plates of different foods for Bilbo every morning. There were candles that were constantly lit and replaced on the table. There were also different items always placed there. 

At first, there had been small chests filled with gems, golden jewelry, and shinning armors but Bilbo had never touched any of that. Then there were slightly more practical things like a gold encased hair brush and a jewel encrusted mirror. Bilbo had taken the brush but left the mirror. He didn’t care about his appearance but the brush was handy for the hair on his feet. The hair on his head always curled neatly and didn’t need to be managed. 

Different items kept appearing that Bilbo wouldn’t head any attention towards. Weapons of all kinds, pottery, fine fabrics, and different instruments, but then the first book appeared. Bilbo had read so many books during the quieter days of the mountain and he was pleased to get the chance to read again. He hadn’t ventured into the library for fear of running into too many dwarves.

He took the book back into his tunnels with him and the daily offering of food. Later that week, Thorin finally came to his tunnels for a visit.

“Bilbo,” Thorin called as he stood away from the tunnels yet still closer than the table. 

Bilbo crept out of the cave slowly but remained near it, in case he needed to dart away. He stood and stared at Thorin, waiting patiently for the king to speak. He truly did look like the portraits and statues of the kings of old. 

“You liked the book?” Thorin asked after a long moment of silence. 

Bilbo nodded slowly. “Do you need it back? I’ve read it twice now so you can have it.”

“No, no, it’s fine if you want to keep it. I’ll have more books brought to you.” Thorin shuffled from one foot to another. Bilbo thought it looked odd to see such a dwarf shuffling. Thorin wore shiny armors, glittering beads in his hair, and a fine crown on his head. 

“There’s a library in the mountain,” Thorin began.

“I know. I used to visit it frequently.” Bilbo wondered what Thorin was trying to get at.

“You can visit it again, if you wanted. The dwarves of the mountain know not to bother you.” Thorin reminded him.

Bilbo shook his head. “I’d rather not.”

Nodding slowly, Thorin clasped his hands together in front of him. “Then I’ll have more books brought to you. A new book a day.” Bilbo agreed with a nod and began to edge back into his cave. “Wait,” Thorin took a step towards him and Bilbo darted into his cave without a look back. He always felt nervous around Thorin. His stomach was always in knots and his breathing became quick and choppy. 

It became a new routine though. Bilbo would receive a book on his table and he would leave the book he finished reading on the table to be taken away. Sometimes Thorin would come down to his tunnels and ask him about the books. It was rather nice. Up until he began to see a pattern in the books. 

When Thorin came to his tunnels, Bilbo approached him accusingly. “Hobbits,” Bilbo snarled the word. “Why do you keep bringing me books on hobbits?”

Thorin looked guilty. “Well, I thought that you would like to know of your kind, because you are a hobbit.”

“Yes, I understood that part.” It had been nice to finally understand that he had originally been a hobbit of the Shire before Smaug took him and infused him. “But if you think that bringing me of all these books about the Shire will make me leave my mountain then you--”

“No!” Thorin’s eyes were wide and he had taken a step towards Bilbo. Since Bilbo had come out of his tunnels and closer to Thorin than ever before, it meant that they were suddenly within arms distance of one another. Thorin licked his lips and shook his head. “I have no intention of making you leave and I’m sorry if you assumed I was giving you signs to leave. I was only trying to help you discover myself.”

Bilbo stared at Thorin critically, trying to see if Thorin truly hadn’t meant for any ulterior motive. “Well, I do appreciate it then. It is nice to know what to call myself, but it doesn’t change anything else. I’m still me; I’ve still lived in this mountain for many decades with no one else but that terrible dragon. I’m half hobbit, but I’m also half dragon myself. I couldn’t go to the Shire if I wanted to. All of these books say that hobbits don’t like adventures or surprises and like to keep to themselves and their calm little lifestyles. I could never make a home in the Shire.”

“That’s good,” Thorin slowly reached forward and rested a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “Because I have every intention of Erebor being your home.” Bilbo smiled as he met Thorin’s gaze. 

The only life he had ever known was changing. He no longer was afraid of consequences dealt out by Smaug. He was no longer forced to transform into a dragon form. He was allowed to be Bilbo. He was allowed to learn about who he was. He was allowed to have friends.

Bilbo knew who he was. He also knew that he was finally happy.


End file.
